


Que Sera Sera

by hellotweetygirl



Category: SHINee
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, M/M, bff drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-22 03:30:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9580754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellotweetygirl/pseuds/hellotweetygirl
Summary: There’s been a change in Minho and Kibum’s relationship…now if only Minho could figure out what was happening and how he felt about it…





	

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This fic was prompted to me by bpash89 about six months ago and so I enthusiastically began writing it…then got horribly blocked and couldn’t make it go anywhere… ;;; Recently I have finally been able to finish it and I couldn’t be happier to see it done!! Betaed by the lovely and gracious shinyaqua.

> _“When I was just a little girl, I asked my mother what will I be?_
> 
> _Will I be pretty? Will I be rich? …Here’s what she said to me:_
> 
> _“Que sera, sera, whatever will be, will be. The future’s not ours to see. Que sera sera.””_

“Will it be pretty if I put this, with this?” Kibum questioned with a tone of anxiety as he came barging into the room. Minho, from his spot in the depths of his closet sorting the winter outfits and liberating the summer ones- cringed. All the members were doing the same today in one form or another and Minho really just wanted to get this job over with so he could get back to the new novel he was reading online. He paused, thinking seriously about crawling into the very back of the closet where Kibum wouldn’t find him but he knew it wouldn’t do him any good. He sighed- being Kibum’s friend was really terribly problematic for him sometimes. He cautiously peeped around the door and had two hangers of clothes dangled in his face.

“Kibum…” he began, guarding against the whine in his voice, unsure of how to fend off the now cutely posing diva. He didn’t want to hurt his feelings but he really, really didn’t want to answer the question either. Kibum put him in such uncomfortable positions. He looked at the flowy white top that was being held up by the hanger against the boy’s torso, and the loosely flowing black pants clutched akimbo at his small waist. The outfit would undoubtedly look fabulous on the boy- anything always worked for him somehow. The problem, however, was expressing this without stumbling over his words. These days Minho kept a tight rein on his thoughts about his best friend because he wasn’t sure what might voluntarily jump from his mouth and sink him in the hot water he was already treading.

“It’s a simple question Minho! Does this look pretty together?” the boy demanded, locking almost challenging eyes with his own.

“Kibum…” Minho squirmed and looked for a way out. Thankfully one miraculously materialized in his doorway at that moment.

“Minho, do you want this?” Jjong held up a scarf and waved it around.

Minho nervously broke eye contact with Kibum and swung his gaze to his deliverer, eyeing the fuzzy item. “Hey, yeah, that looks nice. Thank’s hyung!” He smiled smoothly, stepping around the waiting Kibum. Trying to pretend he wasn’t there and hoping that he would just go away. Stepping up to Jonghyun, he swiftly grabbed the item out of his hands and began nervously running his hands over it. Jjong gave him a look of confusion at the oddness of Minho’s skittish behavior and tone, and quirked an eyebrow at him, questioning. With jaw set tight, he shot Jjong his best look of desperation and motioned with his eyes to the boy who hovered behind him still clutching at the clothes and stubbornly waiting for Minho’s verdict. Jjong looked puzzled for a second before comprehension dawned and he smirked wickedly at Minho who just looked all the more desperate, the last thing he needed right now was Jjong stirring the pot on this whole thing but he had little other options than to allow this to play out and try and keep his cool.

“Watcha got there Kibummie?” Jonghyun asked, pushing past Minho and grabbing at the top and pants that now hung rather limply from the diva’s hand. “Hey! This is really cool,” he said fingering the fabrics “you could wear this to the airport. I bet it will look really pretty on you!”

“Really?!” the boy brightened considerably at the validation of his own opinion and he swung to face the full-length mirror that hung on the wall, holding up the outfit and assessing it again. He scoffed aloud tossing a look that was a strange mixture of superiority and wistfulness over his shoulder at Minho. Kibum faced Jonghyun and spoke confidently. “Of course it does! Everything looks pretty on me. Even stupid frog-faced people should know that!” He stalked out of the room then and left Minho and Jonghyun staring at each other.

“What are you going to do about him?” Jonghyun asked softly.

“I don’t know!” he wailed unashamedly, flinging himself face first into the bed. Jonghyun giggled behind him. “Can you just get out now hyung? Leave me alone. Please!” he begged, voice partially muffled by the faceful of blankets he now breathed. He could hear Jonghyun shuffling his way out of the room and a minute later could hear him giggling down the hall, probably ratting him out to Taemin, the jerk.

If no one saw Minho for the rest of the day it certainly wasn’t because he was burrowed in the depths of his closet reading stories off of his phone and hiding from his problems. 

~~~

The next time Kibum corners Minho, he literally had nowhere to hide. Minho figured the universe was having a terribly good laugh at him as Kibum plopped onto the couch and slithered his head and shoulders into Minho’s lap, effectively wrecking Minho’s concentration and ruining a perfectly good game of _FIFA 16._

“Doesn’t my skin look so much prettier since I started using that seed firming cream?” he queried. “The company sent over a whole box of samples and they’re just fabulous!” he raved. “Look, see?” he said, raising himself on one tragically placed elbow and angling his face this way and that right under Minho’s nose.

Minho let out a strangled wail as the elbow struck his groin unforgivingly and if that wasn’t reason enough to shove Kibum off his lap then surely the freshly glistening face invading his face and filling up his senses with the sweet cosmetic was. Minho however, was a martyr and couldn’t actually bring himself to do anything in that moment and he mentally cursed himself for it. He wished he had the power to deny Kibum in any way shape or form, but ultimately he always succumbed. So instead, juggling the controller in between his fingers, he scooped Kibum up by the shoulders and wrenched him away from his aching nether regions. Momentarily he looked down at the boy still preening under him and he was transfixed, caught by the illumination of his skin, the rosiness of his cheeks, and the shine in his eyes. If his life was a cheesy romance like the ones he’s been hoarding in the dark he’d have sworn that time around him ground to a halt. His mouth gaped open unattractively, words stuck in his throat. With a loud cheer and a final sounding buzzer, the game that had been left unattended finished its round without him, his player woefully behind score. His eyes darted back up to the screen and he let out a wail.

From across the room Taemin began to giggle.

Minho looked to the impish maknae who was sending him knowing looks from his spot lounging on the floor together with their leader and a stack of magna’s. A deep panic settled in his chest as Taemin leaned over to Jinki and began whispering in his ear. Jinki looked to Minho and his eyes sparked with an interest and gleam that Minho didn’t think he would be able to forgive quickly. Both boys began to giggle and snicker, whispering secretively, and Taemin waggled his eyebrows at him tauntingly. He sincerely wished the freshest hell on Taemin for this little tattling stunt- but knowing the little brat he’d probably enjoy it.

“Minho!” the boy in his lap whined: -suddenly time caught back up with him and he snapped into reality again. “Minho, really, don’t you think that I look so much prettier since I started the new cream?” he asked again, pouting and poking Minho on the cheek with a pointed finger.

Minho scoffed at him, worming around him and scrambling to his feet he began to pound at the controller, setting up another round and willfully ignoring the pouting boy curled into his spot on the couch behind him.

“Kibum-ah,” Jinki said searching as he propped himself up on an elbow, “I’m not sure what’s going on or what exactly you’re up to but it’s obvious it upsets him, and as much as we tease him normally I don’t think that if he’s really uncomfortable you should keep doing it. Are you trying to pick a fight with him? Is something going on between you two again?” He looked anxiously between the two of them for any sign but both of them remained stoic. “Because if there is, you need to fix it- we aren’t doing that again- am I clear Kibummie?” Jinki spoke gently but was certainly pulling the leader card tonight and they all knew it as he stared down the opposing parties. Kibum exchanged quiet looks with Jinki for a moment before he unfolded himself from the couch and walked down the hall, shutting himself in his room, the door clicking softly behind him.

“Well, that was uncomfortable!” Taemin piped up, “Let’s have ice cream!” The elder two rolled their eyes at the maknae’s indefatigable appetite and his oh so charming lack of tact. Taemin bolted out of the room and Jinki scrambled to his feet to follow. He paused next to Minho and laid a hand on his shoulder, sighing deeply. “Don’t shut him out. You know how much he values you, and he wants your attention as much as he won’t come straight out and say that… Just take care of it Minho ok?” Jinki patted his shoulder in a gesture of comfort before following Taemin into the kitchen mumbling that if he didn’t hurry there wouldn’t be anything left of his favorite, Monkey Madness!

Minho stood there a moment, controller gripped rigidly between his hands before he threw it down harshly into the basket of gaming equipment stashed overflowing and half fallen over next to the TV.

He stalked out of the room slamming his door behind him.

~~~~

Minho got no sleep that night. Instead, he was plagued with the fitful nightmares and long stretches of silently staring into the darkness that wrapped around him. He clutched his body pillow closer and squeezed his eyes shut tighter, all in an apparently futile attempt to shut off his brain. He didn’t want to think about what his brain was telling him to think about. He didn’t want to think of Kim Kibum.

His problem really wasn’t in trying to distance himself from Kibum. His problem was that he actually did not want any space between them. He loved Kibum as closely as you could love a friend, a teammate, a chosen family member. He loved him more than even he understood.

That didn’t mean that they were on the same page as far as personal boundaries went…

Kibum wasn’t one for over-sentimentality, he liked things clean and easy. He felt deeply, it was true, but those feelings he kept close to him, ever afraid of exposing how sincerely he did care about anyone. Minho however, liked messy. He liked the openness that came from exposing your feelings to someone you loved and being accepted and loved in return. He loved spending hours of time in their presence and making their burdens easier with companionship, affection, and gifts. He loved feeling the warmth of hand to hand or even body to body contact as he shared skinship with someone. Minho’s problems did not lie with all he could do but with all that he couldn’t.

Kibum was Kibum. Nobody came into his space without invitation. The lines he drew were at arm’s length and he was careful to maintain that distance, not trusting himself to another’s care and keeping.

Minho flopped over to his back, half-heartedly kicking at the sheets wound around his legs and began to trace the familiar patterns in the stippled ceiling. Lately, Kibum had been making moves to insert himself into Minho’s physical space and it tipped their accepted dynamic just enough that had him on edge and not knowing how to behave. If left to his own desires, he would shower Kibum with attention, he would grab him up and eliminate all the spaces between them. He didn’t understand why, however, Kibum, despite their longstanding friendship, and the love he knew he harbored for them all had shifted his accepted boundaries with Minho so unexplainably, and he wouldn’t do as he himself pleased without understanding. Kibum was all was too precious not to adore and protect diligently. But in the meantime, Minho felt himself afloat, drifting further from Kibum than ever before -at least emotionally- and it weighed him down, dragging at him like an unplanted anchor and tearing at him by the dichotomy that now existed between the way Kibum had always behaved with him and the physical closeness he now sought. Minho knew that he must resolve this physical and emotional standstill that had come between them of late- he just had no idea how to let Kibum have his own way without hurting his own self, and his heart, in the process.

~~~

Two torturous weeks passed after the incident in the living room and Minho and Kibum had been studiously avoiding each other. After Jinki’s words of reprimand and caution, Kibum had withdrawn into his own carefully ordered circle and had not tried to push or pull at Minho in any way. Minho hated it with passion. He wanted to go up to Kibum and shake him and wake him from the self-imposed formality he was walking around with. Minho wanted the sparkle and flash back, the mischief and the obnoxious laughter. Minho wanted his Kibum back- but he had no light to navigate the deceptively calm waters and guide him safely home.

~~~

It’s two weeks of _not talking, not anything_ later when Minho stumbles into Kibum after a missed step-twist-turn-step during rehearsal. He isn’t surprised the other went rigid beneath him as they stumble together seeking traction beneath their feet. He is however, surprised that the other’s sweaty hands grab him up firmly and put him on his feet again. Kibum is still gripping his elbows standing close when Minho’s heart jumps ahead of his mouth and in a deep rumble he earnestly blurts out an “I’m sorry Kibum!” Whether or not he’s apologizing about the fall or something deeper, Minho himself isn’t sure, but he’s hoping Kibum understands.

Kibum’s eyes furrow a second before relaxing into a quiet melancholy “Okay.”

Minho wants to know what that means exactly and wants to analyze it to death until he does know. The instructor, however, cuts short his musings with a snap of his fingers and bark. Reluctantly, Minho goes back into position along with Kibum, and so the question drops between them, fading into nothingness.

~~~

Minho is utterly astonished a day later when Kibum scoots in next to him in the shared bathroom and meticulously arranges a slew of bottles before he begins to wash at the other sink. Minho sneaks tiny glances at the other boy in the mirror as they work in quiet companionship for a while; the soft scrape of Minho’s razor against skin, the swish of water pooling in the sink, and the popping and clicking of bottles and tubes the only sounds between them.

Minho is just rubbing on the last of a light moisturizer, checking his appearance in the mirror and is about to leave when Kibum springs at him and ducks under his arm as he reaches to hang his towel on the back of the door.

Once again Minho finds himself assaulted by the sweet and light perfume of the cleansers and he wills his eyes to gaze at Kibum and not to flutter shut. Kibum looks up at him, eyes wide, and practically purrs out a question at the startled taller boy, his lips puckering as he pops and drags each word. “Minho… Do I look pretty today?” he asks earnestly.

Minho’s whole posture relaxes at this and he can’t help his lopsided grin as he reaches up to cradle Kibum’s face in his hands. Screw all his mental gymnastics of the past few weeks. He smooths his thumbs over the freshly washed bare cheeks and marvels at the softness and smoothness of them. Now it’s Kibum’s turn to be surprised and his whole expression becomes wide and searching- bordering on hopeful- he’s looking for answers from this man in front of him and hoping he isn’t crushed in the process.

“Why would you ask me such a silly question like that?” he asks tenderly. Kibum’s eyes drop with his expression and he begins to pull away but Minho is unrelenting in his grip. “Kim. Kibum.” he speaks enunciating each word with a light smack to the boy’s cheek. “That is the silliest. Question. You have ever. Asked me.” he says, continuing the taps. He spins Kibum to face himself in the mirror and presses them body to body, trapping the boy between himself and the counter and resting his hands on the narrow hips that drift next to his own. His lips hover close to Kibum’s ear and his eyes roam up and down the other’s face closely observing him. “Look at yourself, you are the prettiest and you know it,” he murmurs lowly. The blush that spreads up Kibum’s cheeks is satisfying but he doesn’t have time to test that reaction further as the bathroom door is shoved the rest of the way open and Taemin stands there gaping at the two of them.

Taemin takes in the pair of them for only a split second before his jaw snaps shut and a mischievous grin breaks out. “Well, how delightful! I’ve interrupted something!” he snarks and watches the pair jump apart. 

“Out!” Minho orders pointing and looking stern. He doesn’t dare look behind him at Kibum, he’s pretty sure the blush on his cheeks is far deeper than even Kibum’s was a minute ago. Taemin only smirks knowingly and backs out into the hall turning and walking towards the living room.

“Oh hyungs!” Taemin sing-songs at a volume Minho’s sure will be heard across the entire apartment, “They’re finally kissing and making up!”

“Taemin!!” Minho shrieks and starts after him but then cool fingers wrap around his wrist and haul him back slapping the door shut and flipping the lock. Kibum spins him around and pulls him into a tight embrace twining his arms around his neck.

“Forget him” he admonishes, burying his nose in Minho’s collar “I’ll get him later” he reveals with an evil chuckle.

Minho revels in Kibum’s embrace feeling all wrapped up in his warmth so they stay like that for several long moments before the two of them begin to break apart and begin speaking.

“Fool!” Kibum accuses with a flat handed slap to Minho’s shoulder.

“So aggravating!” Minho says at almost the same moment squinting and making faces. He tightens his grip on Kibum’s hips and they teasingly glare at each other a moment with squinted eyes and pursed lips before they are both filled with deep chuckles and shy smiles.

Kibum rests his head once again on Minho’s shoulder and softly sighs. Minho does not let go of his hips and grips them like they are his lifeline to the shore.

“Where do we go from here Minho?”

Minho’s face scrunches in consideration but finally, after a moment he answers the tender tone back in his voice evident and strong. “Don’t worry Bummie, we’ll figure it out in time…..everything will be what it should…and, and whatever happens…you’ll always be cute and we’ll always be _us._

Kibum pulled away from him completely and it was endearing to Minho how he nodded enthusiastically and cutely bobbing his head in agreement. With a swift movement, he reaches up his lips and pecks Minho on the cheek before darting around him, flipping the door lock once again, scurrying out of the bathroom and down the hall giggling and mumbling something to himself about _‘frogs being too cute for their own good’!_

Minho put his fingers to his cheek and stared at his reflection in half wonder, half delight….and smiled.

And if no one said anything to him later about acting like he’d been twitterpated, perhaps it was because maybe he was- just like one of his cheesy novels- and everyone knew it.


End file.
